Chapter Three: Purple Aura

Wu Tong reflected that her parents' love for her was selfless and asked for nothing in return, but that didn’t mean she could act spoiled and selfish, taking without giving. She ought to be thoughtful and filial instead.

“Stop pretending to be strange and just eat properly. There’s still a whole plate here—how will your father and I have enough if you keep fussing?” Her mother scolded with a stern tone, but in the end, Jin Yu swallowed the extra-sweet melon in her mouth slowly.

The family sat together enjoying the watermelon, believing Wu Tong had simply been startled, and her parents didn’t press her further about the reason. Having gained their daughter’s rare closeness, Teacher Jin was in such high spirits that she even asked Wu Jingzhong to go to the street and buy a pound of Wu Tong’s favorite soy sauce beef to add to the noodles for dinner.

Normally, Teacher Jin rarely allowed Wu Tong to eat outside food, worrying it wasn't hygienic or healthy. But this soy sauce meat shop was a long-standing establishment with excellent taste and cleanliness, one of the few places Teacher Jin approved.

Summer brought hot weather and little appetite for hot meals, so refreshing cold noodles had become the Wu family’s standard summer dinner.

After reminding her father and fussing over her mother, Wu Tong ate, washed up, and watched the news broadcast with her parents—a program they never missed. Only then did she return to her room and begin a new round of study.

It was already August, less than a month before school started. As summer vacation ended, she would enter her second year of high school. By the end of the first year, students had already divided between liberal arts and sciences. She had chosen sciences, largely due to her parents' persistent belief that mastering math, physics, and chemistry would make her fearless in the world—a principle instilled in her since childhood.

She had quarreled with her parents about this choice, not because she disliked science, but purely out of rebelliousness—a display of unreasonable behavior she knew was wrong.

In Central Plains Province, the college entrance exam used the national test paper, and science students had six subjects: Chinese, math, English, physics, chemistry, and biology. Her foundation was shaky—not only in math, but in all subjects. She was half-baked in Chinese, English, physics, chemistry, and biology, all in need of thorough review and rebuilding.

Having finished relearning the first-year material, with such favorable conditions, she could plan to self-study second and third-year content, or even more advanced topics. Time must not be wasted. No matter how good the resources, only by giving her all could she truly learn; otherwise, it would be empty.

Unconsciously, Wu Tong flipped to the last page of the compulsory first-year math textbook, marking the completion of her review. She looked outside: darkness and silence. The pink bunny clock at the corner of her desk showed it was 11:56 p.m.—four minutes to midnight. She had studied for four hours straight. Immersed in deep concentration, she barely noticed time passing.

Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Wu Tong stretched, loosening her stiff muscles after hours at her desk.

It was time to rest; she would normally have been fast asleep by now. Health was the foundation of all, and proper rest was necessary.

Estimating the sunrise, Wu Tong set her alarm for five o’clock, untied her ponytail, and lay down to sleep. At her age, coupled with the energy spent studying, she fell asleep almost instantly.

The next morning, the alarm rang. Wu Tong reached out to silence it, then wiped sweat from her forehead.

There is a kind of love—a mother’s belief that you might be cold. Teacher Jin thought long hours of air-conditioning were unhealthy, worried Wu Tong would catch a cold, so she would quietly turn off the air conditioner in Wu Tong’s room in the middle of the night.

Wu Tong often woke up from the heat and had even argued about it with Teacher Jin. But when it came to her health and studies, Teacher Jin never gave an inch, and protests were hopeless, communication fruitless.

After wiping her brow, Wu Tong changed into comfortable summer sportswear—short-sleeved shirt and thin long pants—and quietly opened her door. She picked up the bamboo mat cushion she’d found and headed to the rooftop.

They lived in the county agricultural bureau’s family quarters, a seven-story building with two households per floor. Their two-bedroom, one-living room apartment was just right for the family. The rooftop was accessible and convenient for residents to dry bedding or enjoy the breeze in summer.

At this early hour, everyone was still asleep; the rooftop was quiet and empty, perfect for Wu Tong’s purpose. She found a spot, spread out her bamboo mat, faced east where the sun would rise, and sat cross-legged. She timed it perfectly.

The sky was tinged with a faint blush, turning half the horizon rosy.

Gradually, the sun revealed its ruddy edge, its rays spreading across the world through the clouds. Wu Tong lowered her eyes, following the method she had learned the day before, breathing deeply, drawing in a thread of the morning purple energy from the sun, transforming it into a warm flow that entered through her mouth and nose, passed through her body, and spread to her limbs and bones, nourishing her entire being.

When the sun fully rose above the horizon and climbed higher, brightening the sky, Wu Tong stopped the practice. The method she used, the Morning Purple Energy Technique, drew from the sun’s first rays; the full noon energy was not something she could handle yet.

The Enlightenment Stele, attuned to Wu Tong, had deduced this practice from nature itself, emphasizing balance and nurturing spirit. With Wu Tong’s vitality restored, the stele, now bonded to her, could be nourished; otherwise, it would continue to weaken, hastening its extinction.

After finishing her practice, Wu Tong performed a set of Tai Chi to stretch her muscles. From the memories she glimpsed yesterday, her cousin had chosen Tai Chi as a college elective, teaching Wu Tong as a sparring partner. Interested in traditional culture, Wu Tong treated it as a fitness routine, practicing from time to time.

Using her memories, she started off a bit awkward, her body not quite matching the recollections. But as she moved through the forms, she transitioned from unfamiliarity to proficiency, all within the time it took to complete a routine.

With both the cultivation and Tai Chi done, Wu Tong felt her mind exceptionally clear, her spirits high. The usual grogginess after waking vanished, replaced by alertness and vigor.

Morning exercise finished, Wu Tong quietly returned home, entered her room, turned on the air conditioner to the right temperature, and pulled out her English textbook to begin reciting vocabulary.

Her English scores on the 150-point test usually hovered around 120, sometimes dipping below 100 when the questions were tough. She was far from outstanding, and had plenty of room to improve her vocabulary and grammar.

Her goal for this morning reading was to review and memorize at least half, if not all, of the vocabulary from the first compulsory English textbook.